Blue Alert
by verdandii
Summary: Someone's thoughts in the minutes following Endgame. Please R&R.


Blue Alert

Blue Alert

By sparkle*

Summary: Someone's thoughts in the moments following Endgame.

Spoilers: Endgame (obviously)

Rating: PG

Category: General. Hints at D/7, kinda J/C-ish (or not), because its anti-C/7

I hear the turbolift doors swish open and turn to see the Doctor enter along with Tom and B'Elanna, Miral in her arms. I know they're here against the Doctor's better judgment, but I also know he wants to be here just as much as anyone else.

Now we are complete, the entire senior staff on the bridge, except Neelix, I realize. He doesn't even know what we've accomplished. Doesn't know how much we'll miss his impromptu parties when, in a few minutes, it would be the perfect time for him to come over the intercom announcing a "celebration in the mess hall." It would be the party of our lives. And no one deserves to throw that party more. We'll have to make it up to him somehow.

B'Elanna walks to the side of the bridge and sits at the engineering console, her small home on the bridge. Tom follows her but continues toward the helm to relieve me, and he deserves it, deserves to pilot this ship home. No one else has his finesse, to make our landing one to remember.

I turn to walk back to my place and I look at the other bridge officers. Harry looks like (for lack of a better description) a five-year-old on Christmas morning. His eyes are wide, staring in disbelief at the image on the viewscreen. I can only imagine how happy he is.

If Vulcans ever showed any emotion, that's what was displayed on Tuvok's face at that moment. Only for a moment. As soon as he sees me look at him, the flicker of what was there was replaced with his usual mask of calm.

B'Elanna looks the happiest I have *ever* seen her, and I've known her a long time. I would never have thought of her as being a mother, either, but now I can't see her any other way.

Tom is wearing his familiar smug look as if to say, "I told you we'd make it home." And he's probably thinking of some fancy maneuvers to pull of before finally laying _Voyager_ to rest on Earth's soil.

As I'm walking back towards the center of the bridge, I realize I'm not going back to stand next to Seven. And that doesn't bother me. She seems to get the message and I don't think she looks too disappointed. I can tell she's happy enough to be home, but something in her eyes tells me she's scared, too. Then she turns to look at the Doctor, who's come up to stand at her side. I think she still has some things to learn about love. And the Doctor will be the perfect teacher.

The Doctor seems to notice Seven's gaze on him, but doesn't move his gaze from the viewscreen. He's seeing Earth through his own eyes for the very first time, and it might be the lighting, but I swear I see tears in his eyes. That hologram – that *man* – seems more human than the rest of us sometimes.

As I lower myself into my chair, I realize this is my place, at Kathryn's side, where it's always been. I look at her, knowing her eyes, like everyone else's, will be locked on the viewscreen, meaning I can't look into them and tell what she's thinking. But I know. I know her too well not to know. She's still half in a state of disbelief. She's wanted this for so long that she can't believe it's truly happened. And now that it has, she's not so sure she wants it to. What if they break up the family? What if some of us don't remain in Starfleet? What if they decommission the ship?

As I realize what must be going through her mind at this moment, my heart goes out to her. She will never stop worrying. And she will never stop needing a…a friend. I only hope that I can still fulfill that role, hope that she will let me.

She's noticed that I sat next to her instead of returning to Seven's side, and it's as though she let out a breath she'd been holding, I can see her visibly relax a little.

She turns to look at me and there's no mistaking the tears running down her cheeks. In all of seven years, she's never let me see her cry, and this sudden show of emotion touches me. I must be looking at her funny because she brings her hand up to wipe her tears away. I just smile at her as I hold out my hand. Probably before she realizes what she's doing she smiles back, taking my hand and squeezing it.

She must've had a death grip on the armrests of her chair, because that's how she's holding my hand now. I'm almost afraid that she's going to completely break down and cry her eyes out in the middle of the bridge, but she would never do that.

She doesn't. After looking at me, her eyes so full of so many emotions that they're unreadable, she turns her gaze back to the viewscreen and so do I. Earth has grown very large in the time since I last looked at it. It should have been only been a few seconds since I was in the pilot's chair, but it seems like much longer.

I hear the inertial dampers beep as Tom begins his intricate landing sequence. All the personal thoughts and silent conversations are interrupted as Tuvok's voice breaks the silence on the bridge.

"Blue Alert."


End file.
